FILE HB007/021 The List

Moscow Airport.

Outside, in the back of our temporary mobile base of operations, AKA a stolen van, M, Q and myself are midway through a quick debrief via a two-way video transmitter, AKA 'Skype'. And to be honest, the entire ordeal could be going a lot smother.

"So, let me see if I have the correct facts," begins M, "because I would hate to think I was misinterpreting the current nature of your predicament... you shot and killed the only two known men capable of supplying you both with the current location of 'The Bookkeeper' before either of those men could give it to you?"

My silence puts Q in the awkward position of having to answer on our behalf.

"Well... err... M... sir, if you...that is... we kinda... I'm sorry, what was the question again?"

"Look M, what Q's trying to tell you... really trying... is that at some point the situation spiralled out of our control and the op went sideways, causing us to improvise. Bottom line."

"Erm... Disclaimer; when she says 'we' she actually means 'she'. I was on the outside..."

"Yes you were weren't you, Q? A luxury some of us have..."

"Hey, I was doing my bit, Holly... laid out all the groundwork... even took part in my... first... torture session... excuse me!"

Q makes a run for the exit. The sound of him throwing up outside's about as appealing as it was the last time.

"He'll be okay. In-flight meal-Look, there's another angle we can play this. Dolinski was being prepped to take the role of an official. They were probably waiting for the right time to make the switch... I'm guessing there are still more waiting to be drafted in. I'm telling you M, this guy was the same height, same weight... This kind of operation takes time, planning, preparation..."

"Your point, Bond?"

"They must be working from something... a list of some sort? ...Of candidates and those targeted to be doubled..."

"The list!" screams Q, finally making his entrance back into the van.

"You... missed something, Q." I tell him.

"No, I heard it all..." he replies.

"No, I mean..." I indicate towards the corner of his mouth and he turns sheepishly to attend to it.

"Still not hearing that point of yours, Holly." barks M.

"The Bucket List!" yells Q, spinning back around. "The one Holly retrieved from Grey's mansion... described as a huge sequence of random letters spread across a page..."

"What of it?" asks M, mildly intrigued.

"Well... what's the bet those letters translate into the list of names...? Names of every individual those bastards have swapped already and possibly those who used to double them!"

"Sounds like a bunch of straws being grabbed to me," replies M, "Besides, that list is... currently... unavailable."

"But you could get access, right? I'd only need a copy to run it through shadownet and come up with a poss-"

"As I have said, that will prove to be... a tad difficult."

"Difficult? M, we carry out impossible missions on a day to day basis,'difficult' should be a walk in the park..."

"Look, the bloody list is not here anymore, it's missing." stutters M, rather embarrassingly.

"What do you mean, 'missing'?" I ask, capitalising on the temporary switch of roles.

"Stolen, borrowed, heck, I don't know, maybe it grew legs over night, got up and just legged it out of the building? The point is its not there anymore."

"That's not funny M..." I tell him.

"Well, mildly funny..." comments Q. "The bit about it growing... legs... at least...?"

"Well gee, Thats kind of a big deal, M." I tell him. "Wasn't exactly easy acquiring that intel in the first place. I presume your launching an investigation into-"

"Into what? Happened some time today. No evidence of a break-in, security protocol tampering... the first question they'll be asking is what the blazes I was doing acquiring access to that material in the first place. Someone with clearance higher than my own helped those documents disappear."

"Well this confirms it!" screams Q excitedly. "We took out one of their doubles before they could activate him. They're accelerating their plans in response. That list has got to be the key"

"Well then we just need to get it back, right. Any leads M?" I ask.

"One or two names I may be able to implicate, but the list itself is probably long gone by now and theres no way knowing where..."

"Not... entirely true." remarks Q. "I... I can... track it... possibly?"

"You can what? How?" I ask.

"Providing the list is still in the envelope you brought it in, of course, the tracker I put on-"

"You did what?' asks M.

"Don't worry, It's invisible to the naked eye. Wont even show up on any... scans... I'm... in trouble, aren't I?"

"Why, Q?" I ask.

"I don't know... memory muscle? Look, when my acess was suddenly revoked without cause or explanation, I got... you know... suspicious... I don't know why i did it, okay? Dock a years salary if you want! But I think on this occasion..."

"Do you have any idea of the amount protocols you have broken with just that one act?" asks M.

"Well, err, I'd dare say fewer than the amount of lives at stake if we don't act quickly and bring these guys down... sir."

"Q's right, on this occasion at least. We were already in a blind spot regarding what their endgame was, we don't retrieve that list and quick, we might as well call it a day and wait for doomsday to kick in."

"Fine." agrees M, begrudgingly. "But when this is over..."

"Okay M, he gets the picture. And when that time comes he'll face whatever disciplinary action you can throw at-"

"Actually, I was referring to you, Bond. Your reckless desire to continuously play by your own rules has brought into serious question the validity of your continual service here at MI6. A situation that will come under serious review and scrutiny when this mission is over."

"Sure. I... understand." I tell him, biting down on my inner lip.

I mean, damn it, really? What does a girl have to do these days to earn herself some long overdue kudos?

"I know!" yells Q, rising to his feet, tablet in hand.

"Err... you do?" I cagily ask. Surely he hasn't added 'mind reader' to his list of accolades.

"The location of the list?" he explains. "I know where it is."

"Oh. Right. The list. Where is it...?" I ask.

"I've triangulated its current signal, which... to be honest, is worryingly weak... and narrowed it... down... to... Oh maaannn..!"

And with that, Q collapses on the floor, taking a nearby keyboard and half a cup of Starbucks coffee with him.

"Bond, what's happened? Whats wrong with him?" asks M, urgently.

I'd love to tell him but the truth of the matter is I don't know. And by the time I actually figure it out... it's too late, as the entire area all around me starts to spin and my vision gets blurry, followed by the muscles in my legs turning into jelly.

A composite of Nitrous Oxide, Im guessing.

Im also guessing, by the time I come to, I'll be strapped to yet another chair, being questioned by yet another sinisterly nefarious character of questionable morality, trying desperately to milk me for information I don't possess or have access to.

Just another day in the office for me. Regardless of what torture they can... Oh no... Q.

The world fades into darkness.

To be continued...